


Honey Honey, How You Thrill Me

by HermioneJeanWayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Caramel lattes, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Honey, Jam, Light Angst, Ministry of Magic, Pining Draco Malfoy, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, So much Quidditch, Wrackspurts, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-04 10:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10988955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneJeanWayne/pseuds/HermioneJeanWayne
Summary: Although Draco and Hermione do a pretty good job of staying out of each other’s way at the Ministry of Magic, they always seem to bump into each other in the café. One day, Draco looks up at exactly the wrong moment and finds himself watching very closely (maybe a little too closely) as Hermione enjoys the hell out of a spoonful of honey. Whew, did someone just cast Incendio in here?





	1. Honey Honey, Nearly Kill Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to DramioneConvert for being my faithful beta. You always make my work better!
> 
> Also, thanks to J.K. Rowling for these amazing characters. It is, as always, her world and we're just living in it.

Draco Malfoy sat in his corner office in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, looking through the proposed changes to rules for the British and Irish Quidditch League for the upcoming season. His assistant, Meg, had brought them earlier that morning, and they were already giving him a headache.

He wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to limit the number of timeouts a team could take, even though he figured the proposed limit of 17 was probably a generous number. And he really needed to ask Meg to check and make sure the suggestion to add a Silver Snitch was, as he hoped, a joke. Such an idea could lead to rioting in the streets and a Third Wizarding War.

Throwing his papers aside, Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead. His position as Deputy Head of the department was at times a trying one, and he could really use an infusion of caffeine in his bloodstream right about now. Rising, he made his way to the lifts and down to the Atrium Café for a good, strong cuppa.

As soon as he entered the café doors, he groaned inwardly and rolled his eyes. _Every damn time_ , he thought. It seemed every time Draco decided to visit the café, she had made the same decision. Over in her typical booth, engrossed in a book ( _as always_ , Draco sneered mentally), sat Hermione Granger.

While it could be said that Draco and Hermione were on better terms than they were at Hogwarts, that really didn’t mean much, as the two were basically mortal enemies while they were students. Yes, Granger had testified on his and his mother’s behalf when the Malfoys came before the Wizengamot to answer for their misdeeds during the Second Wizarding War.

No, Draco still didn’t know how to feel about that, especially since it was likely her testimony, along with that of Potter’s, was the only reason he and his mother weren’t currently rotting along with his father in Azkaban. Facing up to what Granger and Potter had done for him required too much delving into _feelings_ , so Draco preferred to just ignore it and go on simply barely tolerating the two friends’ existences. Therefore, whenever he happened to cross paths with either of them, it was best to offer a curt “Granger” or “Potter,” accept the equally-curt “Malfoy” in response and go on with his life. And until recently, that plan had worked out just fine. After all, Potter worked on Level 2 in the Auror Headquarters, and Granger worked on Level 5 in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It wasn’t like they typically saw each other just walking down the hallway at work.

But for whatever reason, over the past several weeks, he kept bumping into Hermione Frickin’ Granger in the café, and it was starting to piss him off.

For a second, he considered turning around and going back to his office, but he could already smell the enticing aroma of Earl Grey, and he really didn’t think he could make it through 73 more pages of proposed rules changes without some caffeine and some time to himself.

He steeled himself, went through the queue and sat at an empty table as far away from Granger as possible. For a few minutes, he was able to lose himself in the wafting scent of tea and the flavors of a warm cinnamon apple scone. He almost forgot about Granger’s presence. Actually, he _did_ forget, and that’s when he made his fatal mistake.

As he took his final bite of scone, he absentmindedly looked in Granger’s direction, then did a double take as his scone fell out of his mouth, unnoticed.

Granger must have ordered some honey to go with her steaming tea, because she distractedly dipped her spoon into a tiny bowl, scooped up some amber liquid and brought it to her mouth. Her pink tongue — a shocking contrast to her pale face — darted out to taste. Her lips curved into an indulgent smile, and then Granger did something that, for her, was almost scandalous: _She put down her book_.

Draco gulped.

She paid the spoon her full attention, licking every bit of honey from its silver curves. Her mouth moved slowly, attentively, as she continued to scoop the sweet nectar from its bowl. When she put the spoon down, Draco began to breathe a bit easier. However, in the very next second, he found himself on the cusp of a heart attack as Granger used her finger — _her finger_ — to collect every last morsel.

Unbidden, a sense of heat combined with longing filled him, and he thought, _I wish she’d pay that kind of attention to me_. As soon as he thought it, his mind snapped back to reality. He was ogling _Hermione Granger_ , a swot who had hated him for years. He’d never even found her attractive! ( _That’s not exactly true. Don’t forget the Yule Ball and how delectable she looked in that blue dress_ , his traitorous brain reminded him.)

In a misguided attempt to clear his mind and relieve his desert-dry mouth, Draco took an extra-large swig of his tea and promptly spluttered half of it out — he’d forgotten that it was still hot. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Granger’s head swing in his direction, and his cheeks and ears began to burn. _Don’t look, don’t look_ , he chanted to himself.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Granger asked.

After Draco stopped coughing, he chanced a glance at Granger, who was wearing an expression of concern mixed with thinly disguised amusement and something else, something that was too close to _knowing_. Afraid he’d give the game away with his blushing cheeks, Draco adopted a tone of pompous condescension.

“What? Oh, yes. Just a bit too much tea all at once, Granger. I appreciate your concern, but it is definitely not warranted,” he said. _Or wanted_ , he thought, but that was a bit rude to say out loud, even for him.

As he spoke, Granger’s features settled back into their typical arrangement of slight irritation, and she rolled her eyes. “Forgive me for checking to be sure you’re all right, Malfoy. Don’t worry, next time you choke on your tea, I’ll be sure to simply continue on as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening.”

With that, she picked up her book and her bag, and strode out of the café doors. And Draco absolutely did not watch her backside as she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! The story is done, so I can assure you it will update often. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated in the comments, and if you liked it, please do drop a kudos! Thanks for reading!


	2. You Make Me Dizzy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. And Draco remains frustrated. In every way.

A few days later, Draco was still slogging through the proposed rules changes for Quidditch. Thank Merlin the Silver Snitch wasn’t a serious suggestion. However, the suggestion about enlarging the Quidditch pitch was genuine, and representatives from every damn team in the league were making suggestions about what size the pitch should be now.

There was also some noise from the Chudley Cannons, Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United about changing the pitch shape from an oval to a trapezoid, and Draco was preparing to spend quite some time trying to find a polite way to say “you all can take that idea and shove it up your collective asses.”

He was just a tad bit on edge. And honestly, it was all Granger’s fault.

Ever since her little performance with the honey, Draco could not get her off his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived those moments when she looked as satisfied as a cat with a bowl of cream. And, loath as he was to admit it, he found himself wishing he could find a way to put that look on her face again. But while Draco could be quite satisfying himself, he wasn’t holding out much hope that he’d ever find himself in a position to prove it to Hermione Granger.

He didn’t seem to be able to convince his feet of that, though. At least twice a day, they seemed to direct him to the Atrium Café of their own accord. It had gotten to the point that even Meg — who was supposed to be his _minion_ — felt justified in being a smartass. Now, whenever he so much as rose from his desk, Meg would stick her head in and say, “Oh, a caramel latte for me, thanks.”

The first time she did that, he snapped back that she should really be the one fetching _him_ coffee. With a slightly evil grin, she responded, “Absolutely, sir! I’m happy to head down to the café myself so _you don’t have to_.”

Blast! He’d backed himself into a corner with that one. “Oh, well, you know, I could use the exercise. Shouldn’t really work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports if I’m sitting behind my desk all day, leading a sedentary lifestyle.” Meg looked distinctly unimpressed with his excuse.

He sighed, blowing out a long breath.

“A caramel latte, you said?”

And now every walk to the café was costing him at least 2 Galleons, as he had to purchase Meg’s damned drinks in addition to his own refreshments.

And the kicker? He was making so many trips down there to try to catch a glimpse of Granger again, and she’d seemingly disappeared. He couldn’t even ask anyone if they’d seen her — it’d have been far too suspicious if he suddenly seemed interested in Granger. Everyone knew of their shared history.

Only a week ago, he’d have counted himself lucky to find her so scarce. Now, every trip without seeing her face was just another disappointment. How the wrackspurt had turned.

Oh well, if he was going to humiliate himself privately, he might as well feed his newfound caffeine addiction while doing it. He set his paperwork down, headed out his door while snapping “I _know_ what you want!” when Meg opened her mouth, and took the lift to the Atrium.

As soon as he stepped into the café, he glanced reflexively toward Granger’s usual seat, blew out a disappointed breath and began turning his head back toward the menu — _wait_. He swiveled his head back around. She was back! Some nitwit was sitting in her typical booth, so she was at another table. As he would expect, she had a book in her hands, along with a steaming mug in front of her and a piece of toast.

A bit too late, Draco realized he really hadn’t planned for what he’d do if and when he saw her again. Actually _talking_ to her would be so out of character that she’d immediately know something was up. No, best just to get his own food, sit and go from there.

He took his London Fog latte and chocolate chip scone to an inconspicuous (he hoped) table that still allowed a good view of Granger. As he mechanically ate and took swigs of his latte, he could see Granger occasionally use her wand to flick the pages of her book while sipping from her mug. She didn’t appear to have any honey with her beverage, and Draco felt equal parts disappointed and relieved. Maybe this was what he needed to get past this little … infatuation. He could just sit here, let her finish her nosh and perhaps that would convince his brain (and other body parts) that Granger’s little display of sensuality was just a one-time thing. Yes. Good. He had a plan.

Feeling much better, Draco took a gulp from his latte as he raised his eyes to Granger again. She dog-eared a page in her book, setting it down and picking up the toast. For the first time, Draco noticed a small pot of … jam? With a sinking feeling, Draco watched her collect the ruby-toned jam on a butter knife, spreading it evenly across the toast. She took small, careful bites, finishing off the toast quickly. She picked up the pot, looking into it inquisitively, then picked up a spoon. Draco knew what was coming, but he wasn’t able to stop himself from watching it happen.

It turned out that Granger liked jam just as much as she liked honey. And now Draco was going to be just a little bit further behind on his work, because standing up was currently out of the question.

About 15 minutes later, after Granger had left the café and Draco had calmed himself down enough to be able to walk out without breaking the bounds of decency, he entered his office, still turning his predicament over in his mind.

He walked by Meg’s desk without even noticing her expectant look, but her extra-loud “ _ahem_ ” finally got his attention.

“Yes, Meg? … Oh, dammit. I forgot your latte. I’ll get you one next time.”

“Oh, that’s OK, Draco. By the way, normally it only takes you maybe 15 minutes to head down, get coffee and come back. Today you were gone for nearly an hour. It’s almost enough to make one wonder if you were meeting someone down there, perhaps? Because if you were, it would be important that I, as your assistant, knew about it. Just so I can do my job, of course.”

Draco’s heart stuttered in his chest. He’d hired Meg because she was by far the smartest person in that admittedly shallow applicant pool, but he was sorely regretting that decision. He should have gone with that moronic hulk of a man who, judging by intelligence, seemed to have some troll in his background.

After a few seconds, he realized he should really be making some sort of excuse.

“I wasn’t meeting with anyone. The café just wasn’t very crowded, so it seemed like a nice opportunity to sit and enjoy my coffee. Leisurely.”

Meg raised her eyebrow. _For shit’s sake_ , Draco thought. She’d obviously noticed that pause and was considering all its possible implications.

Again, he blew out a breath. “What will it take for you to leave this line of questioning alone?” That slightly evil grin was back. “If you’ll be a dear and head back down to get me a caramel latte. And a blueberry scone.”

In response, Draco just turned and trudged back out the door to the soundtrack of Meg’s laughter. Had it always sounded so maniacal?

****

Back in line at the café, Draco was pondering various ways to have Meg transferred, perhaps to the janitorial department, when he heard a voice he’d been spending far too much time thinking about behind him.

“Malfoy? Weren’t you just in the café?”

Draco closed his eyes in resigned exasperation, then turned to see Granger, who seemed to have stopped while walking across the Atrium with Potter.

“Granger. Indeed I was. However, my assistant made it clear that me forgetting her all-important caramel latte was an unforgivable sin, and I realized it wouldn’t do to upset the woman who’s in charge of making sure I don’t totally bollocks up my job,” Draco said. “I’m pretty sure she can forge my signature. The last thing I need is her signing paperwork informing the British and Irish Quidditch League that the Silver Snitch rule will actually go into effect next season.”

At that, Potter chuckled, then seemed to visibly catch himself actually laughing at something said by _Draco Malfoy_. Draco and Hermione both shot him surprised looks.

“What? I’ve heard about the Silver Snitch thing from Ginny. Worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Potter said, blushing. “Unless you want to instigate the Third Wizarding War.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Draco exclaimed.

Both men nodded in righteous agreement, then looked up to see Granger rolling her eyes.

“ _Anyway_. That’s actually sweet of you to get your assistant some treats, Malfoy. And smart. Merlin knows they’re the ones who actually keep the Ministry going,” she said. “Speaking of going, we should get moving, Harry. Neville and Luna will be waiting at the pub, and there’s always a rush for lunch. Goodbye, Malfoy.”

Draco nodded at the duo as they trekked toward the main entrance. Even though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, there was a small part of him that luxuriated in the fact that Granger approved of something he’d done. That feeling stayed with him until he sat back down at his desk and realized that he still had 27 pages to go — and several scrolls to write — until he was done with these damned rules changes. Maybe he wouldn’t even bother with politeness — after all, just saying “stick it up your ass” should be enough to get the point across.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	3. Honey Honey, Let Me Feel It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herein lies the light angst. Hakuna matata, though.

Monday afternoon, Draco was back in the café, but this time he wasn’t actually looking for Granger. It had been a hellish morning. A routine meeting with team officials from the Quidditch league had devolved into shouting and wands drawn after the man from Portree had insulted the woman representing Montrose. And that was within the first five minutes.

Finally, Draco had to issue a blanket Silencio spell just to get everyone to shut up. Once he was satisfied all the wands had been put away, he still had to lead the meeting while watching for more fighting within the ranks. Since they couldn’t battle with each other, the attendees turned on Draco, sneering at his suggested modifications to the proposed rule changes and openly questioning his ability to do his job. His breaking point came when he heard the Puddlemere United rep, Nigel Thorne, mutter something about how the Ministry should have a policy against hiring “ _supposed_ former Death Eaters.”

He was about to pull his own wand on Thorne for that when Meg came to the rescue. Merlin bless her, she opened the door, strode to the front of the room and, using a voice assisted by an amplifying charm, told the representatives that the meeting was over and Mr. Malfoy would be in touch to reschedule. They began to argue heatedly, but Meg retorted, “I have just sent an emergency memo to Harry Potter’s assistant, Rupert, letting him know of the trouble you all are causing. In my hand is another. If he doesn’t receive this in five minutes’ time, he’ll be sending his boss along, and I doubt any of you want to cause a scene with _Mr. Potter_.”

Indeed, in her hand was a paper plane, vibrating with readiness to set off on its journey.

The crowd silenced as one. After a few seconds, representatives began to rise and file out, faces grim. At the end, though, Felicity Green of the Chudley Cannons grasped Draco’s hand and whispered, “I”m sorry for that display. Next time we’ll be better behaved. If I have to, I’ll get Ginny Potter to speak to player representatives. If anyone can get the league officials to fall in line, it’s her.”

Draco mustered a half smile and nodded. After Felicity made her exit, Meg sent off the plane, then walked up and gave Draco a commiserating look.

“You can sit and relax for a few minutes, boss. You don’t have any more appointments for the rest of the day. I’ll go down and get us something to eat and drink,” she said.

“No, I’ll go. I’d like to get out of the office for a few minutes. And you deserve a large latte and pastry for what you just did. Thank you,” he replied. “But Meg, I do have to ask. How did you know to come in at that precise moment?”

Meg winced for just a second, sighed, then took out her wand and chanted “Revelio.” Draco’s eyes widened as several long, string-like objects, scattered across the room, suddenly blinked into appearance.

“I put the Extendable Ears in the room before you got here this morning. I had a feeling the meeting would be a tough one, and I wanted to listen in just in case you needed my help,” she said. “I had already sent the plane to Rupert because I didn’t like how rowdy they were getting with you, but as soon as I heard that crack about … about former Death Eaters, I couldn’t stay out of it anymore. I’m sorry, boss. I should have told you.”

Draco nodded. “You should have, but you probably saved me from an inconvenient Azkaban trip. I was about to hex Thorne’s bollocks off. Next time, I’ll just save you the inconvenience and have you in the meeting from the beginning.”

At that, Meg had given him a brilliant smile in thanks and returned to her desk, and Draco's feet had again beat the well-worn path to the café.

****

Once in the eatery, Draco ordered his own refreshments, then decided to sit and try to clear his mind. He'd get Meg's food before returning to his office — there were extra-large chocolate muffins he thought would go well with her latte. 

Draco found a quiet table in the corner of the eatery and sat, closing his eyes and burying his face in his hands. Although he was a Malfoy and well-versed in keeping his composure, it was difficult knowing that no matter how hard he worked or how far he came, there would be those like Thorne who would only see him as a " _supposed_ former Death Eater." Perhaps that was exactly what he deserved.

Draco's maudlin reverie was broken by the sound of someone pulling out the chair across from him.  "Look, I'd just really rather be by myself right—“ Draco cut himself off when he realized exactly who was sitting at his table.

Granger looked back at him with a questioning expression tinged with just a touch of … caring? He’d never seen that one up close before — usually she was directing it toward Potter, Weasley or one of their ragtag bunch.

“I know I said I’d leave off checking to be sure you’re all right,” she said quietly, with a ghost of a smile on her lips. “But you just … you never really let the Malfoy mask down. At least not where others can see. I wanted to be sure the apocalypse wasn’t upon us.”

Usually, Draco would have come back with either a smartass remark or a cutting one, but he was just too damn tired to put in the effort. So he settled for the simplest path — the truth.

“No apocalypse this time, Granger. Just pondering the fact that all some people will ever see when they look at me is the Dark Mark that was once carved into my arm,” Draco said dully. “I’ve made mistakes in my life. No one has to tell me that or remind me of it. I’m _haunted_ by those memories. And yes, I realize you’re the last person I should be complaining to about this. But you asked, and I don’t feel up to my usual sparkling wit today.”

When Granger didn’t say anything, Draco looked up. Any hint of a smile was gone, and he expected her to start haranguing him about how he didn’t deserve any understanding or pity. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find she actually fully agreed with Nigel Thorne. But, as she’d been doing a lot lately, Granger surprised him.

“I know why you’d think I’m the last person you should talk to. My memories from the war are painful, too — and I won’t lie, some of the worst ones take place at your family home,” she said in a quiet tone as Draco winced. “But you are not your vile aunt. You were a child, Draco— I mean, Malfoy. You were a _child_ , and that coward of a Dark Lord sent you to make an impossible choice. It was your family or your soul, and no one could make such a choice, especially not a teenager. I might not have understood that back then, but the years have given me clarity. And anyone who can’t understand that can just bugger right off.”

At that, Draco laughed, his somber mood broken.

“Such language, Granger! My my! What do they teach you in the Department of International Magical Cooperation?” he said in a jesting tone. At her half-smile and shrug, though, he became serious again.

“Really, though … thank you, Granger,” he said. “And, you know … you can just call me Draco.” The half-smile became a true one.

“All right then, _Draco_. And in return, you can call me Ms. Granger.” Hermione chuckled at Draco’s slightly wounded look. “No, just a joke. Of course you _may_ call me Hermione.”

Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione’s typical insistence on being grammatically correct, but he had to smile. It was just so typically her.

The two chatted for a couple more minutes, then Hermione realized she had to return to her office for a meeting and Draco definitely needed to get Meg’s long-overdue food to her. As they parted, Hermione casually said, “So, see you here tomorrow? Say, around 10 in the morning? I usually take a break then.”

Draco was almost shocked into silence, but fortunately a few brain cells were still working enough for him to reply with, “Sure, why not? Tomorrow, then.”

As Hermione walked away, Draco stared at her retreating back. He was so flummoxed, he totally forgot to check out her ass — something he ended up kicking himself for a few moments later, when she was too far away to do so properly. _Dammit_. It was a nice ass, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the reading, the comments and the kudos! This fic has gotten the most comments out of the few I've written, and they've all been so supportive. It warms my little Harry Potter-loving heart!


	4. Honey Honey, Don’t Conceal It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Accio Harry!

“Oh my Godric! Your _face_ when I laid that punch on you! You looked so confused!” Hermione could barely speak through her laughter.

Draco grinned. “That’s because it _was_ confusion! I wasn’t sure if you actually thought you hurt me — that punch was _weak_ , Hermione! Has anyone ever told you that you hit like a girl?”

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh, ha, ha. Misogyny is just _so_ funny and charming.” But she was grinning as she said it, so Draco wasn’t worried about her hexing him when his back was turned. Not really. Maybe just a little.

Over the weeks since that unexpected conversation, Draco and Hermione had been meeting up at the café almost every day. With every cup of coffee and every bite of pastry, the lingering discomfort between them dissipated more and more, until Draco woke up one morning and realized two things: One, he and Hermione Granger were legitimately friends. Would wonders never cease? And two, he still couldn’t get her off his mind. _Hmmm. This could be trouble._

But it was trouble that Draco couldn’t stop himself from rushing headlong into, because he truly enjoyed every conversation he had with the beguiling witch. She was surprisingly easy to talk to — she was just as brilliant as she was in their Hogwarts days, and her wit was just as sharp, but Draco could tell she had mellowed with the years. That seemed fair, because he thought he probably had too.

One day they talked about their families, a conversation that Hermione initiated when she asked how Narcissa was doing. At first, Draco was hesitant to talk about his parents lest he bring back some very unpleasant memories for Hermione, but she was open and obviously interested. He explained how his father was still in Azkaban but was petitioning to be released to home custody due to declining health. His mother, however, had come into her own, forging a new life as a charitable benefactor for organizations across the wizarding world. Hermione listened quietly before simply saying, “Good for your mother. I’ll never forget what she did for Harry, and I’m glad she’s doing well.”

Then she proceeded to explain exactly what her parents did for a living, and Draco — who very much prided himself on his luminous smile — was horrified. “People actually allow them to just poke around in their mouths? With _sharp objects_? Life as a Muggle is bloody terrifying!”

Hermione just grinned. “Let me tell you about a little something called a root canal…” She got just a few sentences out before Draco changed the subject with haste.

Another time, they discussed memories from Hogwarts and classmates they kept up with, gossip about who got married (“Neville and Luna, who didn’t see that coming?”), who got divorced (“Padma Patil and Seamus Finnigan, knew it wouldn’t last”) and who was cheating on who (“Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, engaged for two years and yet both seem to be making it a goal to sleep with the entire population of London”).

Not long after that conversation, Draco summoned the courage to ask about Ron. He was prepared for Hermione to go taciturn and stiff-lipped, but she breezily explained that the two of them dated off and on for several months after leaving Hogwarts.

“It didn’t take long for me to realize that the things that drove me batty about Ron at school were the same things that would always drive me batty about Ron — and not in a good way,” she said. “When I was finally honest with Ron about how I felt, he just said, ‘Thank Merlin. I feel the _exact same way_.’ He ended up marrying Susan Bones, and their first daughter, Amelia, is my goddaughter.”

Draco just said, “Well, good for you and the Weasel,” but he did an internal fist pump knowing Hermione wasn’t pining after _Ronald Weasley, the one who got away_ or some such bollocks like that.

“Draco? Hello?” he heard Hermione say. He met her eyes, and she seemed to be giving him a significant look. _Shit_ , he’d probably missed something she said.

“I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you say?”

“I _said_ , I’m not really dating anyone at the moment,” Hermione said, still pinning him with that look. “What about you?”

“Oh! Uh, no, no. Not dating anyone right now. My mother keeps wanting to set me up with her friends’ daughters, but I’m just not interested. Most of them are social climbers and name-droppers, and I just don’t really have time for that anymore. Really, I’m kind of married to the job right now. Keeping all the Quidditch team and player reps in line is almost as hard as herding wrackspurts, as Looney— I mean, Luna, might say. You know how it is,” he ended lamely.

_For Salazar’s sake, Draco. So much for being suave_.

Hermione seemed to be waiting for something more, but Draco resolutely kept his mouth shut. He’d embarrassed himself enough for one conversation. Finally, in an exasperated tone, Hermione began to talk about the project she was working on for the Department of Magical Cooperation, and how Harry was the Auror liaison for the project. Suddenly she broke off, smiled widely and said, “Harry! We were just talking about you! Join us!”

Draco turned his head to see Potter walking up to the table uncertainly, glancing between him and Hermione.

“If you’re sure…” Harry said, pulling out the chair next to Hermione.

“Of course!” Hermione said, just as Draco thought _Well, this is awkward_.

A moment passed as they all sipped from their drinks, Harry and Draco determinedly _not_ making eye contact as Hermione looked back and forth between the two men. She rolled her eyes and muttered something like “Men are such idiots,” which moved Draco to a smile. Hermione noticed and grinned back.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see Harry glancing between the two, a bemused expression on his face. Then he narrowed his eyes, and _bemused_ became _calculating_. Draco found himself feeling unaccountably uncomfortable. Even though he didn’t like to admit it, Potter was smarter than he looked.

Harry cleared his throat. “So, Malfoy. Did all of that mess with the Quidditch League get straightened out? Rupert told me about Meg’s memo, of course, and Ginny said she had to knock a few heads together at the last player representatives meeting. Said Felicity Green told her that some of the team officials were unforgivably rude to you the last time they were all up here. And frankly, I agree. Anyone who would say something like that is a tosser.”

Hermione’s gaze swiveled to Draco. “Is that what had you so upset that day? You never did tell me exactly what happened.”

Draco looked affronted. “I wasn’t _upset_ , Hermione! You make it sound like I was sobbing into my handkerchief or some rot.” Harry snorted at that, then again looked surprised at himself.

Draco rolled his eyes, then continued. “If you must know, one of the team officials thought the Ministry should consider raising its standards when it comes to hiring ‘ _supposed_ former Death Eaters.’ It really was rude, to be honest. Fortunately, my assistant’s timely intervention saved me from all the ghastly paperwork that comes with drawing your wand on another wizard while at the Ministry of Magic.”

Both Harry and Hermione were silent for just a second, then in a fierce tone he’d never heard before, Hermione said, “I’m glad she was there to stop you drawing your wand. Because if it had been me, I’m not sure I would have.” Draco’s eyes snapped to hers, and his mouth parted in surprise at the intensity he saw in them. They were so focused on each other that they both missed Harry looking between them again, his calculating gaze back and a tiny smirk blossoming. He coughed, and Hermione and Draco both jumped as if they’d forgotten he was there.

“Well, Malfoy, Ginny says you’re actually okay at your job. She’s going to support the rules changes you suggested,” Harry drawled. “And I think she mentioned that Puddlemere United’s getting a new chief executive officer. Apparently Thorne — I think that’s the name Ginny said — decided to take early retirement.”

Speechless, Draco whipped his head around to meet Harry’s eyes. “Early retirement?” he said, voice strangled.

“Yep,” Harry said lightly. “Turns out that rudeness isn’t a good personal trait for the job.”

Caught off-guard, Draco let out a chuckle, which turned into a full-bodied laugh. Hermione just looked slightly shocked.

Still grinning, Draco said, “Excuse me. I think I’m going to go let Meg know that she’ll need to contact Puddlemere and see who we’ll be communicating with now. Nice chatting with you, Potter. Hermione, I’ll see you soon.”

As Draco walked away with a bit of a spring in his step, Hermione turned on Harry. “Harry James Potter! Am I to understand that you had a hand in getting this Thorne character sacked?” she hissed.

Harry grinned. “Not at all, ‘Mione. I’ll actually probably catch hell from Ginny for telling you two about that. Honestly, Ginny’s been telling me for months that Malfoy’s been doing a surprisingly good job as Deputy Head of the department. Turns out that he loves Quidditch almost as much as she does, which is, as we all know, the best way to get into Ginny’s good graces.”  

Hermione nodded and gestured for Harry to continue his story.

“Well, Ginny was furious after she heard about that disastrous meeting in Malfoy’s office, especially once she found out what Thorne actually said about him. So she owled some of the Puddlemere players about it, and long story short, it’s amazing what can happen when some star Quidditch players threaten to forfeit matches,” he said, laughing.

Hermione looked gobsmacked. “They did that for _Draco_? I mean, that’s fantastic, but I would have thought a lot of people would agree with what Thorne said.”

Harry shrugged. “Never underestimate the power of Quidditch — or of Ginny Potter. Malfoy’s good at his job, which keeps the players happy. If the players are happy, they play better, which keeps the crowds in the stands, which makes money for owners. Anything that might mess up that status quo is dealt with instantly.”

Hermione thought it over, then nodded. It made sense, after all.

She looked up to see Harry watching her intently. “What is it, Harry?”

“You and Malfoy just seem to be getting along well these days,” Harry said casually. “Ginny will be glad to hear it. Maybe you’ll actually start caring about Quidditch.”

Hermione swatted his arm. “Stop being an arse. Draco _has_ changed. I’ve been really enjoying actually getting to know him after all these years of believing I knew who he was. I think I can safely say we’re friends now, as strange as that is.”

Harry just looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Seemed like there might be a little more than just friendship there, I’m just saying.”

Blushing, Hermione replied, “Well, since you brought it up… I thought so, but either he doesn’t agree or he’s just being rather slow on the uptake. I might have to take drastic steps.”

“Well, Hermione, you aren’t the Brightest Witch of Her Age for nothing. You’ll figure something out.”

Hermione thought for a moment, then gave a smile that was almost indecent. “You know, I think I will. In fact, I think I might have already.”

When Harry saw Hermione’s salacious smile, he knew Malfoy was done for. After all, that was the expression of a witch with nefarious plans.

_Whew, Malfoy. I don’t think you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter will be posted later this week. Thanks for reading!


	5. You’re a Love Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion!

The next time Draco met up with Hermione, he couldn’t help thinking there was something just a little different about her. He couldn’t quite figure it out. Her lips appeared to be just a bit redder than usual, perhaps, and while her sensible button-down was in place, as always, it appeared she had left one more button undone than she usually did.

Those little details weren’t exactly driving Draco _mad_ , per se. More just flitting about the edges of his consciousness, like a fly might buzz in and out of sight. And he tried — truly, he _did_ — to keep his eyes from glancing down at the tempting little vee of skin just there at her collarbone. In fact, he was so immersed in _trying_ that he missed the naughty smirk that played about Hermione’s mouth for a half second — because, Hermione, of course, wasn’t missing a thing.

“Well, I haven’t gotten anything to eat or drink yet, so I’ll go grab something and be right back,” she said. “Want anything?”

_Just you_ , Draco thought. “Um, no, I’m fine with my tea. I’ll just hang out and wait for you.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hermione said, turning away with a … _wink_? Was Draco seeing things? Hermione Granger did lots of things, but she certainly didn’t _wink_. Draco shook his head and jotted it down to a trick of the light, or perhaps a hallucination. That made much more sense than Hermione winking at anyone, especially him.

Hermione set her tray onto the table and sat back down. Draco glanced down at her food and his eyes widened involuntarily. She’d purchased tea and toast, and on her tray were several little pots of honey and jam.

_This cannot be happening_. Draco gulped — discreetly, he hoped — and stuck a finger into the collar of his shirt in a hapless attempt to get some oxygen to his brain.

“I know it’s ridiculous. My tea is always absurdly sweet, and I inevitably end up with sticky fingers when I eat toast,” Hermione said as she spooned some honey into her drink. “But I just find that I don’t want to deny myself when it comes to some of life’s simplest pleasures.”

Draco groaned internally. She was going to kill him. It wasn’t a bad way to go, admittedly, but still.

Hermione dressed her toast with butter and jam, then plunged into the most excruciating conversation of Draco’s life. In between bites of toast and sips of tea, she licked her lips, sucked jam off her fingers, let out little hedonistic sighs and went into horrifyingly deep detail about the most recent changes to the regulations for cauldron thickness.

“… and so, you see, if a standard size 2 brass cauldron isn’t the same thickness as a standard size 2 pewter cauldron, the consequences could be quite dire … Draco? Draco, are you even listening to me?”

Far too late, Draco’s brain roused him from his lust- and boredom-induced stupor.

“What? Yes, yes. Cauldrons, quite dire, carry on with what you were saying,” he blustered.

Hermione just cocked her eyebrow, then sighed as she ate the last bite of her toast.

“Mmmmm, so good,” she said, picking up one of the leftover containers of honey. “I know it’s not the most polite thing to do, but I hope you’ll excuse me. I just hate to waste anything so delicious.”

“Oh, please, don’t mind me,” Draco squeaked.

She used her spoon to collect the sweet liquid, slowly lapping it from the utensil with her tongue. Draco knew he was staring, slack-jawed, but he really couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it. Finally, Draco could see she’d eaten all her honey except for one final morsel. She put down her spoon and, using one long, dextrous finger, swiped the edge of the bowl to gather the remaining honey. As she brought it to her lips and daintily nibbled, she looked up and made eye contact with Draco for the first time.

With a jolt, he realized the picture he made — his eyes were blown, his jaw hanging open and he could feel the heat in his cheeks. Even the most oblivious person could take one look at him and know what was going through his mind. He braced for Hermione’s reaction, expecting her to be embarrassed and maybe even angry.

Draco didn’t expect her to look him straight in the eye, smile lasciviously and give her finger one last very thorough lick. He definitely didn’t expect her to top all that off with an exaggerated wink.

He felt like he’d taken a bludger to the face. All he could do was stammer, “Since when does Hermione Granger _wink_ at people?”

“I don’t wink at _people_. Just you,” she retorted as her cheeks pinked — just a little.

The sight of that slight blush, more than anything, restored Draco's equilibrium. He couldn't help his fond smile as he sat back and really drank Hermione in for the first time. She was beautiful and desirable, of course, but his attraction to her ran more deeply than that. She was beyond brilliant, scarily talented, possessed a wit sharper than a knife's edge and wasn't above telling him exactly when he was being a wanker. All of that added up to one conclusion: Draco Malfoy had met his match, and it really just figured that it would be the Gryffindor Princess herself.

Hermione's blush had deepened under Draco's scrutiny, and she self-consciously tucked her hair behind one ear.

"What?" she asked.

"Just wondering how long you've known that I wanted you," he said.

Hermione stilled.

"That day you told me my concern wasn't warranted. I saw you. I saw how you watched me," she said, almost nervously. "And then a few days later, you came in again and I decided to test my hypothesis with raspberry jam. Needless to say, my theory was proven correct."

Draco chuckled self-deprecatingly.

“Naturally. I should have known you wouldn’t miss a trick. You never have, in all the time I’ve known you. So … what happens now?” he asked, tapping his foot anxiously. He didn’t think Hermione was the type to throw his all-too-obvious feelings back in his face, but he _had_ been quite the little asshole to her throughout their younger years. Oh, Merlin, what if that was all this was? An incredibly devious revenge plot for the stupid pranks he’d played at Hogwarts, the bullying he’d done, the times he’d called her “mudblood” …

Fortunately, before Draco could spiral too deeply into self-doubt, Hermione summoned her courage, looked Draco squarely in the eyes and said, “Now you should ask _me_ how long I’ve wanted _you_.” His eyes softened in relief, and his sweet, fond smile returned. “OK. Hermione, how long have you wanted me?”

“The day I saw you back in line, waiting to get your assistant food, was the first day I really thought that maybe there was more to you than I’d always thought. Then later my assistant, Oliver, was telling me that Meg always speaks highly of you. He said she’s almost protective of you. That got me thinking even more. You don’t find that kind of loyalty in mistreated employees,” Hermione said. “Then after that disastrous meeting, when you were just so honest with me, I realized that there was definitely a difference between the boy I thought I’d known and the man you are now. And I also realized I was surprisingly interested in investigating exactly what that difference was. With my teeth.”

That startled a loud laugh out of Draco, especially when Hermione’s expression turned to a pleased smile.

When he finally stopped laughing, Draco grinned warmly and said, “I think I could be amenable to that plan. In fact, it’s almost the end of the workday. What say we skive off the rest of our boring paperwork and go snog like teenagers?”

With a mock gasp, Hermione slapped her hand to her chest. “Draco Malfoy! I do believe you’re trying to be a bad influence on me. _And I like it_.”

Giggling, the two stood and made a mad dash for the exit, racing right past a slightly stunned Harry and his assistant, Rupert.

“Right … Rupert, please do send a memo and let Meg and Oliver know it looks like they can go home early if they wish,” Harry said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. “Apparently Hermione’s plan worked after all.”

“Not a surprise, sir. She’s not the Brightest Witch of Her Age for nothing, after all,” Rupert said, grinning as he conjured the memo and sent it off.

“Well, considering that she’s set her sights on Draco Malfoy, of all people, we might have to rethink that title,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Now, be sure that all the Aurors know about the meeting we have set for tomorrow afternoon. There’s quite a few new Dark spells they need to be aware of…”

****

Outside the Ministry, Draco and Hermione both sank into breathless laughter.

“Did you see Harry’s _face_? I’ll certainly be hearing about _that_ tomorrow!” Hermione said.

“I imagine I’ll be getting the shovel talk from him sometime soon,” Draco said. “Somehow I’m not sure I’ll give the occasion the gravity it deserves, but I’ll try.”

Hermione gave him a blinding grin, then straightened, taking his face gently in her hands. She rose onto her tiptoes as Draco leaned down and their lips met. A few heart-stopping moments later, they separated, both breathing hard.

“That bodes well for our immediate future,” Hermione panted. “My place is close by, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I love honey. I’ve got several jars of it, and I’m interested to see what other uses we can find for it. How about you?”

Draco gulped. She was going to _kill_ him. But he’d sure as hell enjoy it while he could.

“Lead the way,” he said. “I’ve already got some ideas in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, giving kudos and commenting. I've been floored at all the comments I've gotten, and every single one has been so nice and supportive! I appreciate it so much. I've got more fic ideas for my different fandoms (Harry Potter, The Avengers, DCU) so watch out for those if you're interested!


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